


{Un}Comfortably Close

by elldotsee



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Freebatch - Fandom, Freebatch Freeform - Fandom, Sherlock (TV) RPF
Genre: Almost as bad as Kiss for a Case, Alternate Universe where FreeBatch is real, Awkward Flirting, Awkwardness, Boys Kissing, First Kiss, Imagined Johnlock Confirmation, Imagined S5, Kiss for a show, M/M, Reality vs. Fantasy, SORRY SOPHIE!!!!, Sexual Tension, Talk Shows, Talk show games, Watch What Happens Live, blurred lines, post s5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 14:59:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14979632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elldotsee/pseuds/elldotsee
Summary: Martin and Benedict are invited to Andy Cohen's late-night talk show to discuss Series 5 of Sherlock. Andy encourages them to play a game that gets them Uncomfortably Close to one another. FreeBatchery ensues.





	{Un}Comfortably Close

**Author's Note:**

> Freebatch is a major guilty pleasure of mine, but I have never written it before. 
> 
> Disclaimer: While I love to imagine a world where every iteration of Johnlock/Freebatch is real, this is purely a work of *FICTION* only. These are real people, with real lives (and children, and spouses), and while shipping real people can be harmless fun, it can also be intense and dangerous if that shipping bleeds into the real world. Don't do that. :) Just enjoy this silly little head cannon of mine, inspired by [ this video ](http://www.bravotv.com/watch-what-happens-live-with-andy-cohen/season-15/episode-98/videos/matt-bomer-andrew-rannells-get)
> 
> This was not beta'd- all mistakes are my own. I really must get back to writing my 75 million WIPs. :)

Season five has just aired, with the much anticipated JohnLock confirmation, complete with a full-on, no holds barred kiss. Sherlock Holmes is gay. The secret is out.

The calls for talk shows start coming in less than twelve hours later. When the call comes to do Andy Cohen’s show, Martin enthusiastically agrees. Ben is fine with it too- he’s not even sure who Andy is, except that he’s American. A quick google search on the way to the airport informs him that this Mr. Cohen is the first openly gay host of some American late-night talk show.  _ Ah _ . Of course that’s why he’s so keen to have them on the show. Ben smiles as he slides his phone back into his leather messenger bag. He’s glad that he’s part of this movement toward regular representation for LGBTQ+ in the media, even if that’s not  _ necessarily _ his identification. 

The show starts off as anticipated; Martin and Ben are each given a drink and directed to sit in matching grey armchairs while Andy asks the usual questions they’ve been fielding for days- “Was it awkward filming the kiss scene?” ( _ No, we’ve always had wonderful chemistry; We’re actors; It’s just a kiss _ ) “Did you always know that this was the endgame for John and Sherlock?” ( _ Yes of course. Since the pilot. Did you even watch the show? _ ) and “Are you open to playing other gay characters in the future?” (Ben takes this one, in his typical, long-winded way: _ I enjoy challenging myself to play a wide varieties of roles, I try not to have a checklist, it’s not like I’m going to say, ok, I’ve played a gay man- check! No, I just take roles that speak to me, regardless of their sexual orientation, political stance or creed. This is just my work; I’m playacting, it doesn’t reflect me as a person _ ). 

They cut to a commercial break and Ben shifts in his chair, stretching forward to take a drink of his gin and tonic. He sneaks a glance over at Martin, who’s laughing at something Andy is saying, looking more relaxed and happy than he has in years. His hair is longer, swept to the side, and he’s tan; a nice, bronze glow that makes him look younger. He’s dressed in a light grey suit, a pink shirt and navy loafers. His shirt is open at his throat, exposing just a hint of coarse blond chest hair as it peeks out above the top button. Ben feels overdressed in his dark suit. He’s glad he decided to skip the tie at least. 

“Alright, before I let you two go”, Andy begins after the commercial break, clapping his hands together, “I want to play a little game.” The audience cheers. “Ok, you two, turn and face each other in the chairs.” 

Martin dramatically swings his legs around until he’s facing Ben, who does a little shuffle-step to meet him. 

“Good, yeah, just like that, okay. Good!” Andy has a huge smile plastered on his face, his voice climbing with each enthusiastic word. 

“You’re going to take turns rattling off questions. The other will answer the question, but every time you ask a question, you have to move even closer together until you are  _ Uncomfortably Close _ to one another.” Andy enunciates the words so much that it’s obvious that’s the name of this game. Martin waggles his eyebrows at Ben, smiling playfully. The audience laughs, but only Martin can see the slightly pink tinge creeping onto Ben’s cheeks. Ben ducks his head, but he’s smiling, the corners of his eyes crinkling. 

“You will do this for sixty seconds. Doesn’t this sound fun?” A few people whoop their agreement. “To me at least, and at least three people in the audience!” The crowd erupts in cheers.

“Alright, let’s get down to business. Who’s going to start with the first question?” 

Without thinking, Ben lifts his index finger, swooping it through the air to point at Martin, whistling. Martin smiles, and Ben thinks he detects a hint of wistfulness in those dark blue eyes, but he blinks, and it’s gone. Leaning forward, Martin rubs his hands together and plants them firmly on Ben’s knees, his expression mock-serious. With the side of his hand that’s hidden from the camera, he gives Ben a tiny squeeze. Though they haven’t used it in a few years, not since the last taping of Sherlock, it used to be their code; a quick squeeze to make sure the other one was alright. Ben gives an almost imperceptible nod, but Martin’s eyes are fixed so intently on him, Ben knows he saw it.  

“Sixty seconds on the clock, and GO!” Andy shouts, waving his arm like a checkered flag. 

“What’d you have for breakfast this morning?” Martin leans in fractionally closer. 

“Uhhhh...oh! A banana, on the plane! What’s--Who’s your favorite Marvel character?” Ben tips his head forward ever so slightly. 

Martin smirks. “Iron Man.” One person lets out a whoop. A few people boo. “What’s your favorite movie?” He wiggles his head, moving it closer. Ben rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. 

“Groundhog’s Day”. Martin looks at him disapprovingly, one eyebrow cocked. 

“What? Oh, sorry! Should I have said one of yours?” Ben taps one finger against his lips, pretending to think. “Erm… Cargo!” Martin scoffs. 

“You just said that --- “ 

“No, no, I really loved it.” His voice softens with the next words, nearly to a whisper, meant solely for Martin’s ears only. “You were brilliant.” Ben gives him a genuine smile then and leans his head closer. Martin huffs out a laugh. “I don’t think you were supposed to move”. 

“No! You only move when you ask the question!” Andy interjects, laughing. “Oh, go on! 45 seconds still!” 

“Shit! Umm...sorry...oh hell. What’s  _ your  _ favorite movie?” Biting his lip and glancing sideways at Andy, Ben slides forward in his chair. He shuffles his feet to keep his balance. 

“The Hobbit, obviously. I’m fucking  _ Bilbo Baggins _ , of course it’s my favorite. I’m brilliant, even you said so.” Martin’s eyes catch on Ben’s and he winks. “Smaug is pretty great in that too.”  

It’s Martin’s turn to ask. “What’s your favorite Sherlock episode?”

Ben blinks. His moment’s hesitation tells Martin everything he needs to know, but then Ben surprises him. 

“The...that one.” Ben clears his throat, glancing around as if suddenly remembering that they were, in fact, surrounded by people, both real and on the internet. He could practically feel the room vibrating with the live tweeting, texting,  _ whatever _ that was undoubtedly already happening. His voice is strong when he speaks, but he starts bouncing his foot, a telltale sign of nerves. Martin’s hand flattens against his knee lightly, just the barest hint of pressure. 

“Garridebs.”

Martin moves only a fraction closer this time, watching Ben carefully. Their faces are now only a few centimetres apart and Ben catches a whiff of Martin’s aftershave. It’s the same, always the same and it comforts him. His knee stills and he feels the minute squeeze of Martin’s fingers again. 

The audience seems to be collectively holding their breath as Ben’s head tilts to the side to avoid bumping their noses together. His eyes are starting to cross and he considers closing them, but he doesn’t want to miss any of Martin’s many expressions. The gin and tonic has taken effect and his limbs feel long and languid. His arms are propped on the armrests, his hands folded comfortably in his lap. He has a sudden desire to reach forward and rest them on top of Martin’s where they are gripping his knees. 

Andy’s laugh interrupts his thoughts. “You do still have thirty seconds left!” 

“Oh god!” Martin leans back suddenly, rolling his eyes, but he’s laughing. Andy leaps out of his chair and practically smashes their faces back together. “No, NO! Stay!” 

Martin gives Ben another cheeky wink, turning partially towards the audience. 

“You’re right. You’re right. The thing is, one can not be too close to Benedict Cumberbatch. I could probably sell this shirt now on E-Bay for a fortune, simply because he has breathed on it.” 

Ben is blushing more obviously now, tucking his chin down to hide his embarrassed smile. He shakes his head. 

“Or Martin Freeman! I should probably just rip these trousers off right now...toss them to one of your adoring fans… oh god. That- that didn’t…” Martin chuckles as a few people in the audience scream. Ben closes his eyes briefly, willing the audience’s mind off of his naked arse. 

“Now you’ve done it.” Martin nods, raising his eyebrows. “How ‘bout another question, yeah?” 

In a desperate attempt to change the subject, Ben blurts out the first question that pops into his head, as the ghost of Martin’s scent flutters against his skin.

“Did you shave today?” 

Martin grins, surprised by the question. Ben’s answering grin is genuine; it’s so rare when he catches Martin off guard and he loves it every time. He’s so caught up in the sight of it that he forgets to move. 

“Yep.” Martin pops the ‘p’ softly and tips up his chin, his eyes sweeping down over Ben’s chin and cheeks. “Did you?”

“Yes.” Ben’s lips move, but his answer is nearly inaudible, just the tiniest whisper of sound as his tongue butts up against his teeth, lisping out the ‘s’. 

“Where - um...where is the last place you went on holiday?” Ben can’t move much closer, but he tilts his head to the side. Martin’s mouth tucks in at the corner, trying to hide his smile. 

They are sharing one breath now, barely millimeters apart. They have been in this position before of course, but as  _ Sherlock  _ and  _ John.  _ This is Martin and Ben, and although they are both professional actors, absolutely able to separate themselves from their characters, they have always had a special connection, the lines between reality and fantasy blurring as the years passed, in a strange parallel universe to their beloved characters. Even after the ‘cut’, after the costumes were removed, the lingering touches and the soft-eyed glances always remained. And now, they are face-to-face (literally) with these blurred lines. This feels strangely intimate despite the thousands of eyes watching them now, in real time as their eyes lock. Martin’s tongue darts out to lick his lips and the air between them stills. As the last two seconds tick off, he crosses the final distance and crushes his lips against Ben’s, gripping the fabric of his trousers in his fists. It’s brief and chaste, and as they pull apart, the audience goes nuts, cheering and clapping. Ben claps his hand over Martin’s on his knee and gives him a tight squeeze before they both turn towards the audience with matching grins. 

Andy slumps backwards in his chair, one hand splayed on his chest. 

“Well! That was  _ hot _ . Wasn’t that hot?” The crowd’s affirmative cheer was deafening. Andy opens his mouth again, but is drowned out. He holds his arms out towards Martin and Ben, who are beaming. They lift their joined hands in the air, and stand, bowing dramatically. 

“Wow” Andy laughs breathlessly, standing and wrapping his arms around them both. “Ladies and gentlemen, Martin Freeman and Benedict Cumberbatch!” 

Amid another round of deafening applause, Martin leads Ben off the stage, one hand firmly against the small of his back. At the edge of the curtain, they turn in unison and wave, Ben blowing a kiss to the audience as they disappear backstage. Andy watches them go, fanning himself before they cut away once more to a commercial.  

  
  



End file.
